Hooked on Fishing
by FemaleChauvinist
Summary: Carlisle goes fishing with Charlie, and finds that maybe Bella isn't the only one in the family with bad luck…


**Disclaimer:** While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Carlisle are not to be regarded as authoritative.

Recognizable characters and plotlines are the property of Stephenie Meyer; all original characters and story © 2017 FemaleChauvinist.

 _Do not post without permission. Do not copy/print without including the above disclaimer in its entirety._

 **A/N: I expanded the timing a little for my version of Twilight; Carlisle, Esme, and Edward take Bella and Charlie out for dinner on Easter (Carlisle letting Charlie drive the Mercedes), and James' attack occurs the week afterward (though Bella isn't hurt quite as badly; her leg isn't broken). See my profile for the explanation of the change in year from canon. Barbie**

 _May/June 2003_

 _Late-Twilight_

 **Carlisle**

I sat in the front passenger seat of my car, not quite relaxed as Chief Charlie Swan drove back to his house after our Easter dinner in Port Angeles. His one beer wasn't enough to noticeably impair his senses, and he wasn't driving nearly as fast as I did…but he didn't have my reflexes.

Of course, with my reflexes, I could take control at the slightest sign of trouble…

"You ever been fishing, Cullen?" the chief questioned.

"Oh…a few times." While most animals would flee at our approach, fish didn't seem to mind; I wasn't sure if they lacked the instinct that told them we were dangerous, or if the water simply provided a buffer that kept them from sensing our approach.

"You and I ought to go sometime; how about this Saturday?"

"I'm not scheduled to work," I agreed. "Sounds like a good idea."

He grinned and took a curve at a speed that made me wince. "I know some great spots."

"Um…about that, Chief; I'd rather not go on the La Push Reservation. And for your sake, you probably shouldn't mention our plans to Billy Black or Harry Clearwater."

He glanced at me, taking his eyes off the road for longer than I was comfortable with. "You know, Cullen, I've often wondered what it is they have against you."

I smiled, shaking my head. "It's an old family feud," I said lightly; "nothing you would be interested in."

He shrugged, making the car swerve slightly. "Well, there are good fishing holes this side of the line." He pulled into his driveway and stopped short, the front bumper mere inches from the back of his squad car. "Meet you here Saturday morning…say, nine o'clock?"

"Sure," I agreed. "I'll call if something comes up and I can't make it. Good night!"

I slid over into the driver's seat as he disappeared into the house, running my hands over the steering wheel as if inspecting it for damage.

Esme laughed softly as she joined me in the front seat. "You care more about this car than you do me, Carlisle," she said, pouting in mock jealousy.

I turned to grin at her. "Not at all, love. I let Chief Swan drive the car; you, I keep for myself."

Esme smiled, then sobered as I pulled out of the driveway. "Carlisle, are you sure it's wise to go fishing with a man who's good friends with Billy Black _and_ Harry Clearwater?"

I turned to raise an eyebrow at her. "I'm not breaking the treaty, love. I promised not to bite humans, not that I wouldn't go fishing with them."

Esme sighed. "I know, but…"

"They can't do anything, love, any more than if he came into the hospital and I treated him."

"Not to you," she agreed. "But you're risking the chief's friendship with them…"

"He's risking it himself, love; he understands that they don't like me, even if he doesn't know why. Besides, they know he doesn't know the danger."

"Not like Bella?" Esme suggested.

"Exactly. If I thought it was a bad idea, love, I would have said no." I pulled into the garage, stopping short mere inches from the back wall.

 **oOo**

That turned out to be the week a blood-crazed vampire chased Bella across the country, so our fishing trip didn't materialize until nearly a month later.

Alice had predicted a cool day; cloudy, but with no rain until evening.

When I pulled up in front of the house, Chief Swan was already in the driveway, loading fishing tackle in the trunk of his squad car. Bella sat perched on the porch railing, watching; I knew Edward would be by to pick her up a little later.

The chief looked up as I got out of the car. "Hey, Cullen. Looks like a good fishing day. Put your stuff in the car, and let's go."

I nodded my hello to Bella, and did as he asked.

"See you later, Bells!" he called.

"Bye," she replied almost shyly. "Bye, Carlisle."

"Goodbye," I responded. "Have fun with Edward."

She smiled and ducked her head, and Chief Swan snorted softly. "Those kids…"

I played deaf, knowing he hadn't meant me to hear.

"So, where are we headed, Chief?"

"Place on the river about ten miles from here; I've been real lucky there lately. And just Charlie is fine."

I smiled. "Carlisle, then," I agreed.

He drove the squad car more sensibly than he had my Mercedes, though it wouldn't have bothered me if he hadn't; it wasn't as if I was afraid for my own safety. In about twenty minutes, he pulled over, parking in the grass on the side of the road. "It's a five-minute walk from here," he explained, leading the way into the trees. I could already hear the sound of the river and smell the cool wetness; different from the rain-dampness that more or less permanently saturated this area.

We fished in silence for the most part, broken only when one of us made a catch. The fish were biting well, and by noon we had caught seven.

Charlie unwrapped a sandwich for lunch, and looked in consternation at my empty hands. "I could've had Bells make one for you…want half of this?"

I could tell the offer cost him, and smiled, shaking my head. "No, thanks; I get in the habit of skipping lunch, working busy emergency shifts. Think I'll keep fishing while you eat."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself."

I had already reeled in another fish when Chief Swan rejoined me. He started to sit, then jumped up with a yelp.

I turned my head quickly toward him. "You all right, Charlie?"

"I think…I sat on a fishhook," he gasped, obviously in some amount of pain, not to mention surprise.

I glanced at the spot where he had so briefly been sitting, and saw no sign of a hook, which I assumed meant it was still embedded in his person.

Wedging my rod between some rocks, I got to my feet. "Better let me have a look."

His hands remained clamped over the seat of his pants, and I shook my head. "Come on, Charlie," I said, laughing a little. "Unless you're planning to pull it out yourself, you have to let me see it."

He slowly let his hands fall away.

"Bend over," I told him. He obeyed, leaning his hands on his knees.

I carefully ripped the cloth of his pants away from the hook so I could see where it broke his skin. "That's in pretty deep," I murmured. "I'll end up doing more damage if I try to just pull it out." How he had managed to sit on it at just the right angle to impale himself in such a fashion, I couldn't begin to imagine.

After so many years, you would think I would have grown used to the fact that humans managed to hurt themselves in ways you hadn't dreamed possible. But just when I thought I must surely have seen it all, someone would come in with their tongue stuck in the lid off a marker or a pea sprouting in their lung, and I would be surprised anew.

"No," Charlie groaned.

I raised an eyebrow. "No, what?"

"No, I don't want to go to the hospital. It's embarrassing, humiliating…"

I chuckled, shaking my head. It would be tricky to get him to the hospital anyway, since he couldn't sit. "I have my medical bag in the car; stay here and I'll be right back."

I moved faster than human speed while I was out of sight, and soon returned with the supplies. "Better lie on your stomach," I told him. "Here." I offered a hand, helping him down and noting that he winced slightly.

"I'm going to numb the area first," I told him.

"No," he said quickly. "I'm not some weak-skinned female; it doesn't hurt that bad."

I shrugged. "It's up to you. Let me know if you change your mind."

With the help of my instruments, I extracted the hook with as little damage as possible to the surrounding flesh. I then pushed his pants down slightly, exposing the wound so I could more easily clean and dress it. Chief Swan winced at the sting of the antiseptic, but didn't make a sound.

"That should do it," I commented, pulling his pants into place over the bandage and offering him a hand to his feet. "When was your last tetanus shot?"

"Oh, I don't know," he said carelessly.

I frowned. "Roll up your sleeve," I ordered, already reaching in my bag for the syringe and the bottle of tetanus vaccine.

"Oh, really, this is entirely unnecessary!" he blustered.

"That hook can't have been any too clean, and tetanus is no joke. Roll your sleeve up."

So, our illustrious police chief was afraid of needles…maybe it wasn't just machismo that made him refuse the anesthetic.

"I have some oral pain relievers," I offered after he had reluctantly rolled up his sleeve and I had administered the injection. "Do you want any?"

"No, thanks." He craned his head, attempting to see the back of his pants. "How bad does it look?"

"It…shows," I admitted delicately. I had had to enlarge the tear quite a bit to get easily at the hook; a splash of white was obviously apparent. "I have sutures here, if you want me to try a mending job."

"Yeah…sure. Look, Cullen," he said as I started stitching his pants back together, "this is covered under patient confidentiality, right?"

"Absolutely," I assured him. I would even have blocked it from Edward, except there was no point when he would hear it in the chief's thoughts anyway. But he and Alice could be trusted to be discreet.

"There," I said, stepping back to admire my handiwork. "Esme actually doesn't think much of my sewing skills, but I think that should hold at least until you get home." It was laughable, really; I had done microsurgery with sutures finer than a human hair, but Esme didn't even trust me with something as simple as sewing on a button.

"Thanks."

"Sure. You want to head on home now?"

"No; Bells would suspect something if I didn't stay out all day."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "She's going to be out all day herself; she won't know the difference."

"Well…I still want to stay." He grabbed his rod, wincing only slightly as he sat down; the man must have a high pain tolerance. But then, I had to admit, so did Bella.

Finally Chief Swan seemed to decide he could suggest going home without losing his pride. "Hey, Cullen, I forget how many of these fish were yours."

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter; just keep them all."

"You sure?"

"Yes; my family doesn't really care for fish." I had tried fish blood once, just out of curiosity, and found it cold and unappetizing, distinctly fishy-flavored. Maybe some types of fish would be better than others, but given the choice I definitely preferred the blood of warm-blooded animals.

"Want me to drive?" I offered as the chief slammed the trunk shut.

He glared at me. "I'm sitting either way, Cullen."

I shrugged and moved to sit in the passenger seat. I recognized the signs; the man was in pain but too proud to admit it.

"I'm going to give you my cell number," I told him as we wound back toward Forks; "I want you to call me if the pain increases or you notice any discharge from the wound." He wouldn't call, of course; I would have to ask Edward to check the man's thoughts and let me know if there was a problem. I went on to give him basic instructions on caring for the wound, and then informed him that I'd want to come by to check on it in a few days.

He glared at me. "I'll be fine, Cullen!"

Maybe, but puncture wounds were prone to infection; even with Edward keeping tabs on him, I didn't want to take chances. "You have two choices, Charlie. You can give me a time to come by the house and check it…or I can show up unannounced at the station and let you explain things to your deputy."

"You wouldn't!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Try me."

He sighed. "Can you make it in the evening when Bells usually does her homework?"

"Monday evening at seven," I agreed.

He pulled into the driveway, and we both got out. "Thanks for the fishing trip, Charlie."

He nodded. "We'll have to do it again sometime."

I watched him limp slightly as he moved around the car. "Go inside and take an aspirin," I suggested. "In fact, as a doctor I'm giving you permission to take twice the recommended dose, every four to six hours… just don't drive within three hours of taking it, or drink any alcoholic beverages." That was roughly equivalent to prescription strength, and I thought he might be more inclined to take the painkillers he needed if he thought no one would know about it.

As I was driving home, the absurd impossibility of the incident struck me again; I was still chuckling over it as I walked in the house to Esme.

She smiled. "And what's so funny, Carlisle?"

For a moment, I hesitated. I had never betrayed patient confidentiality even to Esme; I told her about some cases, but I never mentioned names. But just this once, I was tempted. It wasn't as if she would ever let on that she knew… But beside the unspoken assumption of confidentially, I had given the chief my word.

Chuckling again, I shook my head. "Tell you in fifty years, love."

The End

 **A/N: I tried to post this last week, but the Fanfiction website seemed to be having some technical difficulties... Barbie**

 _I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know!_

 _Please note that I have internet access only once a week, and may not have time to respond to all reviews/messages. If you have questions regarding my Twilight alternate history, check my profile first to see if they're answered there. Thanks for your understanding! Barbie_


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